


Tony Stark's Guide to Marrying Your Ex-Boyfriend

by emmawalters



Category: Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Hank Pym Has Issues, M/M, Secret Marriage, Tony Stark Has Issues
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-07-22
Updated: 2015-07-22
Packaged: 2018-04-10 17:40:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,489
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4401206
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/emmawalters/pseuds/emmawalters
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tony and Hank dated, long ago. Then they didn't, and they dated, or in some cases, married, other people. But because they are who they are, this did not end well for anyone. Things get weird.<br/>-<br/>“Let’s get married,” Hank says, voice so calm and sure he almost sounds sober. The words certainly make Tony feel sober.<br/>“Why on Earth would we do that?”<br/>“Because we’re the only two people who can stand each other, we still find each other attractive, and we’re old.”<br/>Tony thinks it over for a minute. Pepper will kill him, but Hank makes a good point to his drunk self.<br/>“All right,” he replies. “We’ll go in the morning, get eloped at city hall. The news will love it, I can see the headlines now: Tony Stark marries secret gay lover.”<br/>Hank’s drunken smile gets a little more devious.<br/>“Let’s not tell anyone for like a year, see if they notice.”<br/>In retrospect, this was the worst part of the whole idea, which is probably why drunk Tony loved it so much.<br/></p>
            </blockquote>





	Tony Stark's Guide to Marrying Your Ex-Boyfriend

**Author's Note:**

> I've revived this because I'm having trouble getting through my novel. The first chapter is in the middle of edits, and the second chapter was scrapped because we're going in a different direction. But I'm not dead!

“And just when I thought it wasn’t possible for you to fuck up anything else,” the voice on the other end of the line says, “you create a killer death robot and blow up an entire city in Russia.” Hank laughs. “Kudos on the casualty count, though. Zero civilians is impressive for a world catastrophe on your scale.”

“Don’t you have a cure for cancer to create or an ant farm to tend to?” Tony snaps back. “And I’ll have you know our body count was actually zero. Father Russia pulled through. Lucky for us, really; I don’t think Mother Russia could have made it through the winter without him.” Hank is silent for a moment, likely in the same position as Tony: tinkering with something on his end and only half paying attention to the conversation. 

“You know, Fury considered me for the team, a long time ago.” 

Tony laughs. 

“Yes, I’m sure your army of ants would have helped us immensely. Just like your habit of beat-“

“Don’t go there if you aren’t prepared to have this war, Stark,” Hank warns, and Tony pauses for a second. While this was a can of worms they would have to open at some point, there was no denying it could wait until they were in the same room. “You know how alike we are.“

“Are you implying-“

“No need to imply the truth. We all heard about what happened to you after New York; I’m amazed she stayed with you through that. Things got better with you and Pepper, and they didn’t with me and Jan. It’s as simple as that.” Tony doesn’t say that it’s not simple at all. There are a lot of things Tony doesn’t say. 

—

Tony isn’t alone the next time Hank calls. Steve asked him to come in and consult on some gear for the newbies, fix Sam’s wings up and see about proper costumes for Father and Mother Russia, who finally chose their superhero names, and are now going by Quicksilver and the Scarlet Witch. Tony lets it go to voicemail the first time. 

And the second time. 

And even the third time, although it hurts him to hit the reject button. 

By the fourth time Hank calls, Tony looks at Steve and says unapologetically that “yes, he really has to take this call.” 

He can’t even get a word out before Hank is bombarding him with words like “bipolar disorder” and “lithium” and “suicide risk.” His voice is hoarse, like he’s been crying, and after getting Hank to promise to stay on the line, he heads back into the room for a second. 

“Listen, Cap,” he starts, but Steve interrupts him. 

“Pepper needs you back at the Tower?” He asks. Tony shakes his head no.

“Worse. My ex-boyfriend is trying to kill himself because he ran out of his medication. I’ll be in LA, but don’t bother calling. I’ll come back when I can.”

He doesn’t give Steve a chance to reply, already getting the finally rebuilt JARVIS to put together the closest suit for him. 

He gets to LA three and a half hours later, after a flight full of talking Hank into lying in bed and waiting for him while listening to Tony recite the Table of Elements and all related stable isotopes. It’s brainless and seemingly effective, because when he arrives at Hank’s trashy apartment, the blond is actually sitting up in bed, face red but not currently crying. 

“Tell me everything,” Tony says, sitting down next to him and taking his hand. 

(He doesn’t like to think about how Hank is the only person he’s ever really shared feelings with. He doesn’t like to think about how it wasn’t like this even with Pepper. He’s not thinking about how cold his bed has been since Pepper left him.)

“There- there was a woman at the shelter while I was volunteering,” Hank starts, because of course he couldn’t just start a shelter, he had to work at it, too. The man had more guilt than Murdock, sometimes. “She looked just like Jan- for a moment I thought she was Jan. But she had a little girl with her, and her face was all bruised up, and she, she told such awful stories to the women that were helping her- I could hear them from where I was working, and I should have moved, I shouldn’t have been listening in, but I- I just-” Hank takes a deep breath, leaning into Tony. His eyes are red, and it’s anyone’s guess how long he’s ben crying. 

“All you could think about was that her husband could have been you,” Tony finishes for him. “But he isn’t you. He was just some idiot who-“

This seems to make his crying worse. After a few hiccupy breaths, he continues. 

“He was a doctor, Tony. He was an oncologist. His job was to help people, just like mine was. She said he’d broken her ribs before, Tony!” Hank stands abruptly, moving to stare at a picture hung on the wall. Tony already knows that it’s a picture from his wedding day, just as Hank kisses Jan. 

“You’ve gotta stop tormenting yourself,” Tony whispers. “You were sick. You’re better now.” (Mostly, Tony thinks, and tries not to dwell on how much he relates to that sentiment.)

“That’s not an excuse. You’ve been worse than I am, and you never hit Pepper.”

Tony wants to lie. He really wants to, it’s safer for all of them if he does, but he can’t.

“That’s not true.”

The speed Hank turns around at might be faster than light.

“When?” He asks quickly and forcefully, taking a step forward. 

“It was three weeks after the Battle of New York,” Tony mutters. “I hadn’t slept in at least a day, running fully on caffeine and fear. She came into the workshop, tried to convince me to go to bed, and I snapped. I punched her in the jaw.” His hands hang loosely between his legs, and he stares at them intently. 

“And how do you live with yourself?” Hank asks, his voice cracking in desperation. 

“She hit me back. Again and again, until she was crying. And I let her, because I felt I deserved it. She stopped sleeping in the same room as me, that night. 

“Things got a little better after the Mandarin, but it was over the second I started it. You were right about one thing, Hank. We are a lot alike.”

They sit in silence for the rest of the night, eventually just crawling into bed and holding each other until they fall asleep. Tony leaves early the next morning, and the pair never talkabout that day again. 

—

When Jan gets remarried to some guy Tony has never heard of, his invitation has a note on the bottom. 

“You’re single as shit and we both know it, so please be Hank’s plus one and keep him from guilt tripping himself too much.”

For a moment, Tony allows himself to believe that this is a simple task. He asks Pepper to get him a suit, Pepper, who’s now probably dating Happy, although they’re both doing a good job of not mentioning it around him and he’s doing a good job not thinking about anything related to that and-

It hits him then how much of a disaster this is going to be. Hank takes everything two times more seriously than Tony does, and just using his reactions with Pepper as a baseline, Jan was good to think ahead and get Hank a handler for the wedding. The real question is why Tony’s going. Either way, he leaves a week before the wedding and decides he’ll just sleep on Hank’s couch and (he’s not thinking about that night he’s not thinking about that night) get a hotel room closer to the venue the night before. Of course, Jan is getting married in LA, because like Tony she understands how to make something tastefully over the top. Tony just often chooses to cross that line into garishly over the top. 

Hank’s surprise is obvious on his face, but Tony barges in anyway and throws himself down on the couch. 

“So,” he opens, “if I’m your plus one to this wedding, we obviously have to make sure tuxes match, and as I’m sure you haven’t gotten yours yet, I’ll be buying it for you, because I’m the best kind of ex-boyfriend.”

“The annoying kind who is taking you to a mysterious wedding?” Hank asks.

“No, the rich kind.” Then it hits him what the blond just implied. “Wait, mysterious wedding? You didn’t get an invitation?”

“No, or I’d have some idea why the hell you were sitting on my couch,” he replies, arms crossed over his chest. Tony grabs his phone, dialing Jan. 

“Give me just a second,” he says, moving into the hall and hoping that Hank doesn’t follow him. She answers on the first ring. 

“He doesn’t know?” Tony asks, furious. “You sent me here as his god-damn invitation?” 

“What, rather than send him a paper one and trigger an episode?” Jan laughs, and he can hear rustling on the other side of the line. “Of course I sent you, he’s actually crazy now.”

“He’s not crazy!” Tony snaps back, wincing at his own tone. “He’s bipolar, he’s taking medication, and he’s not a piece of glass, Jan! He’s not going to break at the first piece of bad news; he might want you to be happy more than you!” 

A touch on his shoulder startles him, and suddenly, the phone is out of his hand. 

“Hello, Jan,” Hank says, a small, sad smile on his face. “While I appreciate the sentiment behind your invite, just looking at the date on Tony’s, I believe we already have plans.” There’s silence that Tony spends thoroughly confused. “Yes, well, you know how he is. Without Pepper, he can’t keep a schedule, so he gets very confused. I’m sure you’ll look wonderful, though, as always.” Another pause, another moment of silent confusion. “Well of course, I’m sure Tony will send some extravagant gift, it’s just the way he is.” Silence. “Oh, you have a great day, too. We should get coffee sometime, if you can!” Silence. “Uh-huh, talk to you then. Bye!”

Hank hangs up the phone. 

“I’ve been learning a lot about how to get out of things politely from the soccer moms who volunteer with me. They think I’m adorable and gay, or something. Haven’t bothered to correct them.” He pauses, and Tony thinks this is when the breakdown should happen, but Hank just smiles. “Let’s get wasted, because he’s a nice guy, I’m happy for her, and it’s awful.”

Tony can work with this. 

—

Hank is on his third Screwdriver and Tony his fifth shot when they start making out. It’s sloppy and drunk and awful and ten minutes later they’re lying on the floor laughing. 

“Y’know,” Tony murmurs into the skin of Hank’s neck, “I don’t remember remember why we broke up.” For some reason, this makes Hank laugh. 

“It-“ he starts, “it probably had something to do with you being so young. Not in age or anything, but in atto- attitude. You were always going out and drinking and I just wanted to stay in and do drunk science.”

Tony laughs, remembering their last fight and how dumb it had been. He’d been black out drunk for the first half, but Hank was more than happy to fill him in on everything that had happened during the second half, while he battled a wild hangover. 

“Well, I don’t really have time for much besides drunk science, now, if I wanna drink.” Trying not to think about why that is, why he buries himself in his work, Tony steals a sip of Hank’s drink. He doesn’t think about how much time he’s been spending on the West Coast, between conferences and consultations. Doesn’t think that maybe he’s been finding excuses to be here. Doesn’t think about the reason he’s here this time. He certainly doesn’t think about how many weddings he’s been to in the last few years, and how far away his own has got to be, if it ever comes at all. 

“Let’s get married,” Hank says, voice so calm and sure he almost sounds sober. The words certainly make Tony feel sober. 

“Why on Earth would we do that?” 

“Because we’re the only two people who can stand each other, we still find each other attractive, and we’re old.” 

Tony thinks it over for a minute. Pepper will kill him, but Hank makes a good point to his drunk self. 

“All right,” he replies. “We’ll go in the morning, get eloped at city hall. The news will love it, I can see the headlines now: Tony Stark marries secret gay lover.”

Hank’s drunken smile gets a little more devious.

“Let’s not tell anyone for like a year, see if they notice.”

In retrospect, this was the worst part of the whole idea, which is probably why drunk Tony loved it so much. 

“I bet you a hundred dollars that the media notices within a week,” Tony says with a laugh.

“And I bet you a hundred we can go the whole year without anyone asking, if neither of us drop any hints.”

“Deal.” 

They only just manage to shake on it before falling asleep on the floor.

—

When Tony wakes up, he’s got his standard vodka hangover: he’s hungry and he has a slight headache, but beyond that, good to do advanced calculus. Or, if he’s remembering last night correctly, get married. 

The shower is running, so Tony allows himself to lay in bed a moment longer. He’d forgotten just how much of an early riser Hank could be. There are two Excedrin and a glass of water on the worn down bedside table. When he's done with those, the shower has shut off, and Hank comes out, towel around his waist. 

“So,” the blond says, running a hand through his hair, “still want to get married, Stark?”

Tony thinks about it for a moment. Pepper will kill him, the media will crucify him, and Cap will give him a disappointed look about not getting to be the best man. 

“Move to New York with me?” He asks instead of bringing up any of these things. Hank smiles. 

“I’ve been meaning to expand the shelter,” Hank tells him. “You think New York could use another one? I’m sure you would be great at creating the stealth technology possible, like buying me a building and paying contractors to make it look like something else. Maybe even have an actual business in the front, and the shelter in the back.”

Tony nods.

“Well then,” Hank says, moving to peck him on the lips just like he used to. “Let me get my suit on. We’ll drive to the courthouse when you’re ready, Stark.”

“That’s husband to you, mister.”

Hank laughs from halfway across the apartment, and Tony doesn’t ignore how it makes him feel weak in the knees. 

—

There’s not a long line at the court house, and after asking Murdock to draw up a quick nondisclosure agreement, he’s officially a married man. They stop at the grocery store on the way home and buy ring pops from the candy isle, because Tony is still a child and Hank doesn’t care. They’ll buy real ones back in New York, or maybe Tony will make them out of leftover vibranium. 

When they get back to Hank’s place, they start packing, because if he’s not going to Jan’s wedding and Hank is moving to New York, they don’t really have a reason to stay on the West Coast. 

His phone rings halfway through. and Tony picks up without looking at who’s calling. 

“So,” Jan says, “I suppose a congratulations is in order?” 

Tony curses, and Hank pauses. Putting the phone on speaker, he moves closer to Hank. 

“Don’t worry,” she continues, “your NDAs are safe. Matt wanted me to know before you told the media, is all. For some reason he thought I’d be mad.” She laughs, but it comes off slightly bitter. “Can’t let me win at anything, can you, Tony?” 

“We won’t be leaking it to the media,” Hank says, his voice halfway between shaky and enraged. 

“So you got hitched, and I wasn’t wrong. Good.” Jan pauses for a moment. “You can both probably do better, but it would just be awful for the people you were with, which is exactly why you deserve each other.” Jan hands up promptly, which Tony is grateful for. He resents her words while acknowledging that Jan is absolutely right.  

“Should have made Murdock sign an NDA,” Hank mutters. 

“So long as Jan doesn’t tell anyone, it won’t matter,” Tony tells him, throwing a pair of shoes into the box he’s packing. There’s a hum of agreement, and they carry on in silence. Minutes of taping, folding, and wrapping pass before Hank pauses. 

“How are you going to explain me moving in to Pepper?” He asks, and Tony shrugs. 

“You’re an old friend, and you wanted to open a shelter in New York. I’m not supposed to just let you live anywhere, now am I?” Hank laughs, folding the shirt in his hand. “Besides, maybe you were looking to lay low during Jan’s honeymoon phase. No better place than across the country, right?” This earns him another laugh. 

“That one, Pepper will certainly believe, given what she thinks of me.” Tony winces. 

“She really does kind of hate you, doesn’t she?” Pushing him on the shoulder, Hank smiles. 

“It just helps my end of the bet, really. She’ll stay away from the residential floors, then.”

“Pepper will find out the second she walks in on us. As much as I want to win, Pepper doesn’t count in the same way Jan doesn’t. Hell, she was probably Murdock’s next ca-” Tony’s phone rings just then, and he actually looks at the caller ID this time. “It’s Pepper,” he tells Hank. He answers the phone and puts it on speaker. 

“Anthony Edward Stark!” Pepper yells on the other line. “When you get married, I should not have to find out from the lawyer who made your NDAs! What were you going to do, tell the media before you told me?” She takes a brief pause, obviously catching her breath. “And since when have you been dating Hank Pym? I knew you were spending more time on the West Coast, but for God’s sake could you choose less of an asshole? I can run the company or I can keep you from self destruction, Tony, I can’t do both! I-“

“Hello, Pepper.,” Hank cuts in, leaning toward the phone. “We won’t be going public. We decided it would be bad for company image if Tony randomly got married. We’re busy packing right now, but you can remind me how awful you think I am in person when we get to New York.” Hank pauses, moving closer to the phone. “Have a good rest of your day,” he adds before hitting the end call button. 

They sit in silence for a moment, surrounded by half packed boxes, ring pops in their pockets. 

“Was this a bad idea?” Hank asks, staring at where their marriage license sits on the bed. 

“Most definitely, but so have all our other major life decisions. I think this is the least bad idea we’ve ever had, for sure.”

Hank smiles a little bit at that, leaning his head on Tony’s shoulder. 

“I remember once how you described me to a friend of yours,” Hank says, “but I left before you finished. I wasn’t ready to hear it all, then; I think I am now.”

Tony turns to Hank, an eyebrow raised. 

“What was the first part?”

“Imagine if self-doubt was a person.”

He remembers that. It was early on, right after they had broken up, but while they were still trying to work together. Tony had brought in a second opinion on some weapon he was working on, knowing Hank would never consult with him for this. The woman he’d been working with asked who his lab partner was. 

“And imagine all the things you do to help them just make things worse,” he says, his voice almost a whisper. “That was the next line.” 

“You did make it better, Tony.” Hank mumbles. “You kept me alive, then and now. All those stupid times I refused to get help, you were there. That was the problem. I didn’t think I deserved help.” 

Tony tries to laugh, but it comes out choked, bitter, and dry. 

“You always were such a goddamn masochist.”

“Takes one to know one, now, doesn’t it?” Hank shoots back. “But we’re technically on our honeymoon. Let’s keep the talk a little less gloomy.”

 

 


End file.
